Will I make it to work on time? 

Went to bed sick.  Woke-up sick.  Decided, in some sort of fear-of-death Puritanism, that calling in sick would be... well, lazy.  And that would make me bad.  (As if showing up late is somehow redeeming?)  So here I am - in my underwear, with foreign things moving furniture in my abdomen, and with twenty minutes to be at work - and I am typing. 

(You needed to know that.)